The Legacy: A Mafia Bad Boy Romance

by Xander Hades

  “One thing I did learn, Daddy,” Deanna said quietly. “We need them. There might be more every day waiting to join in, hoping for the payout, like you say. But if we don’t have men, we’ve got no way to enforce anything.”

  “Great,” Dominic said, spreading his hands and staring at the ceiling. “I got wonder boy here coming from a drunk art school, playing with mud and sticks telling me how to run my business, and my daughter is talking like an afterschool special. Deanna learns the value of thugs.”

  He pulled the cigar from his mouth and stared at me. It was that same look the pit bull gave me. RUN, I dare you, please, RUN. “So, genius, what’s your great idea?”

  “We get married.”

  Deanna stood up quickly. She was staring at me like she’d never seen me before. I wish I could have read that expression. Partly deer-in-the-headlights, partly anger, I think, I hope, I saw some happiness in there too.

  “Genius!” Dominic exploded, lifting his hands in mock surprise that would have made me cringe had I not been expecting it. “Flat out FUCKING genius! Why the hell didn’t I think of that? Oh, wait… THAT WAS THE PLAN ALL ALONG!” The vein was about to pop out of his head and start screaming at me separately. I tried to get that image out of my head.

  “In New Orleans.” I added, crossing my arms, waiting for him to think through THAT.

  Dominic shoved the cigar back into his mouth. He chewed it so hard it spun.

  “For what purpose?” He looked up at me, his eyes cold and calculating. In an instant, he had gone from pit bull to something darker, something more evil. I had to remember that this man was responsible for most of the organized crime west of the Mississippi for the past 30 years. This was not a man to be fucked with.

  It occurred to me that I no longer cared.

  I was making things up as I went, trying to placate the old man. If yelling at him wasn’t exactly the best way of placating… well, I was new at this. I was going by my personality.

  But at that point, it all came together. I worked out exactly what I was going to do and The Outfit would never be the same. If it lasted for the next three weeks.

  If I was wrong… then hundreds of people were going to die. Probably me and Deanna to boot. That idea didn’t sit with me so well. I wished I dared glance at her, to see how she was taking the news, but I was beyond the point of no return, and if my gaze so much as wavered, I was done.

  The thing is, I had figured something out. The difference between me and Tony. I wasn’t comfortable with someone else having the reins. Not Deanna. Not her father. And if Fingers thought he was going to run things, then he was going to get a damn rude awakening.

  “For the purpose of uniting The Outfit,” I said with a grin, watching his expression carefully. “Just like you wanted.” I paused for good measure, then added, as though the whole thing was an afterthought. “Oh, bring everyone. All your men, all your connections. It’l be good if everyone sees this.”

  “That’s like 300 men.” Dominic said. He was thinking about it. I could see him doing calculations behind his eyes.

  I shrugged as though I hadn’t a care in the world. “I love a big wedding.” Deanna made some noise, some squeak, some muffled protest. I ignored it. Waited Dominic out.

  “And Fingers?” he asked, twisting the cigar in his hand, turning it into so much pulp.

  “Him. And every last one of his men. I’ll make sure the grapevine gets wind of it. They’ll come.”

  Dominic started. He was getting it, getting that this was a move so ballsy you had to be crazy to try it. “You planning on starting a war?” This time it was he who gave Deanna an uneasy look. I followed his gaze, noting that she’d gone twelve kinds of pale. She got it. She knew. She knew exactly what I was proposing, and it meant putting not just me but her up as bait.

  “No.” I sort of lied. “I’m going to end one. Permanently.”

  Dominic wanted to say something more. Something along the lines of a threat. I could read it in his posture, his every movement. But that would mean threatening his best friend’s son. His baby girl’s husband. His chance for a grandson that could unite the families.

  He didn’t know he was already too late for that.

  He turned and walked slowly out of the room, closing the door behind him as gently as if he’d just gone to lunch.

  I looked at Deanna.

  “Your eyes are so narrow,” she said. “It’s a wonder you can see me at all.”

  I held out my hand to her.

  “I see you.”

  Chapter 17

  Deanna

  I had to admit, I was more than slightly confused. Daddy had been screaming for over an hour. Michael didn’t say a word the entire time, he just stood there and stared. At first, I thought he was too scared to say anything, but he didn’t look scared. Then it occurred to me that Michael didn’t get scared. I’d never seen him truly frightened of anything in his entire life.

  He propped himself on a corner of Daddy’s desk and crossed his arms. He stared at Daddy respectfully, but he didn’t look away or flinch. Daddy was coming down on him like a storm and Michael was just letting him blow over.

  In a way, I was amazed at how he was able to stand up to Daddy. Tony certainly never would have. But then Tony never would have gotten into this mess to begin with. He’d been happy enough to go along with my plans. Michael though always had to do things the hard way. Like now. To be honest, I thought that he was making everything worse. It was like watching the Big Bad Wolf trying to knock down the house of bricks.

  Then Michael replied. And I about hit the floor. I suppose the idea of marrying him should have made me happy. It’s what I’d wanted, wasn’t it? It’s what Daddy and I tried to make him do after all, to make him marry me. Not that I didn’t still resent the whole idea. I did. The idea that I was being sold off like… well, I didn’t want to think of a comparison. Let’s just say stuff like this wasn’t supposed to happen in this day and age.

  But I had reconciled to that. I had figured that I could step in and take over and so who cared how I ‘d gotten where I wanted, so long as I got there? The beauty of it was that Tony had been so easy. From him, I could have.

  Then he’d died and everything had gone to hell.

  So I’d tried making Michael see reason, and when that hadn’t worked, I’d tried things my way. And I’d fucked up. Plain and simple. So if there was anyone to blame here in this whole big mess it was me.

  And Michael could have thrown me to the wolves. Washed his hands of the whole thing. Daddy’s men would have backed him up, they certainly had no liking for me. But no. Michael just…well, was Michael. He’d started… taking over, calling out orders. I saw his man Rico with him. I didn’t get it. That man would have died for Michael. So would the others. Just as Daddy’s men, might for him, might.

  But for me? I shied away from that thought. That man I’d sent to New Orleans…I’d have to live with that. I certainly hadn’t expected him to die, and for that matter, neither did he. Would he have gone anyway if he’d known? If he knew he wasn’t coming back would he have done it still?

  Rico would have. If Michael had asked him to, Rico would have.

  It was an uncomfortable thought. To be honest I knew things should have stopped there – everything ending at that fateful horseback ride. Maybe I should have been shot, and things would have evened up somehow. At the very least, Michael had every right to just leave me there in the bushes. He could have told my father that everything that had gone wrong so far had been my doing and gone home and let me be the one on the other end of Daddy’s tongue lashing.

  But then he’d stepped in, the knight saving the princess. He’d carried me all the way back to the stable. And then stood here taking all this abuse. I didn’t get it.

  I didn’t like it. You couldn’t control a man like that. Not that I was going to stop trying. I may have been kicking myself with spike heels, but I wasn’t gonna quit either. But taking over Michael was like trying
to throw a saddle on a dragon.

  And now, he was giving me exactly what I’d said I wanted. Marriage.

  But even that wasn’t quite right. It certainly wasn’t the way I’d wanted it. Not according to my whims and rules but to some plan he had all laid out in his head that I wasn’t privy to. He had some plan going on that I was only beginning to get a glimmering of. I could just about guarantee that none of it involved me being the boss.

  Could I accept a marriage like that?

  I wasn’t sure. I wasn’t even sure what I wanted anymore. There had been a moment when we’d been hiding in the bushes with bullets flying all around that...well…it’s been kind of nice to know he’d had my back.

  What would it be like to be married to a man like that? One you could count on to be there for you? To have your back in all the daily mundane things as well as the big important stuff?

  It was a strange and heady thought. The kind of thought a girl could get lost in.

  The blood pounded in my ears so bad I almost missed the rest of it, but when Daddy said something about a war… I paid very close attention. I watched Michael. He had a plan, something dire and devious.

  After Daddy left, I stared at him long and hard, trying to figure out what was going on behind this eyes of his. The problem was, I could barely see them. “Your eyes are so narrow, it’s a wonder you can see me at all.”

  “I see you.”

  There was a slight emphasis on the word you. He was letting me know that he saw me. I breathed in a little sharper than I intended, and had to swallow hard to get past the lump in my throat. How are you supposed to take a statement like that? But that look in his eyes…Somewhere in the past few days, he’d gone from dreamer/artist to someone that could stand toe to toe with Daddy and come out on top.

  The change was breathtaking.

  And suddenly I found myself remembering a lot of things I was probably better off forgetting, like the feel his hands on me. His lips on mine. The wonderful fullness of him inside of me. Thoughts that left my skin hyper-sensitive and alive in a way I’d forgotten.

  Distractions. Things I couldn’t afford to be thinking about right now.

  But he was right. I hadn’t been seen. Not by Daddy, not by anyone. I’d always been somewhere behind or off to the side. An appendage, an add-on, a nuisance. Even with Tony, I’d been what exactly? I cover for the lifestyle he truly craved and desired. Not that people had treated me badly. You had to be seen to be hurt like that. And I’d mastered the art of invisibility a long time ago.

  Right up until I couldn’t stand it anymore and had created a world so rich and fantastic that it forced people to see me, to see the me I’d created out of thin air. And for a time, maybe it had been satisfying because finally, people were paying attention.

  But they hadn’t been paying attention to me. The real me.

  Until now.

  Until Michael.

  And I couldn’t figure out what to do with that. I stood there, gape-mouthed and just looked at him, at his eyes, trying to see myself in them. Maybe I could, I could see the way I looked to him. Maybe I could see me. At long last, maybe I was in there somewhere.

  “What are you thinking?” I wasn’t sure for a moment who had spoken. To my surprise, it turned out to be me.

  He seemed distracted, lost in his own thoughts. “That we’ll show the world we’re together.” The words came out automatically, voicing again the same things he’d said earlier to Daddy.

  Like maybe he hadn’t seen me after all.

  And like that, I felt the hurt all over again. I wanted to grab hold of him and shake him hard, scream into his face and tell him that I wasn’t actually asking about his plans. I’d wanted to know what he was thinking right that minute. When you discover that someone sees you for the first time in your life, it’s natural to be curious about what they think of what they see.

  Idiot.

  “So it’s to be a pageant then?” I asked, the words coming out clipped and cold.

  “The bigger the better,” Michael said, with a shrug, like he had it all worked out, like nothing could go wrong, even though I knew there was a still a chance the whole thing could blow sky high. “Fingers will lose his men, and we can do it without anyone getting hurt.”

  Except me.

  And quite possibly a few hundred other people. “You really think he’s just going to let that happen?” The hint of disappointment had turned to bitterness and I found it harder to talk with my jaw clamped shut. I half expected Michael to say something, to call me on my tone. Either I was developing better control than I thought, or Michael was too wrapped up in his own schemes to notice.

  “We’re not going to give them the choice,” Michael said and took my hand, fingers curling around mine. Warm. Reassuring.

  God, my whole body responded, my heart raced and my mouth went dry over nothing more than someone holding my hand.

  So, what was worse? Was it more painful to not be seen, or to be seen and still used for someone else’s plans?

  “You’re planning on marrying me,” I said, hoping against hope he would take the hint, and say something, anything that would tell me that I wasn’t being used, that I wasn’t being a fool. That Michael did care about me after all and these last few days hadn’t just been great sex with no meaning behind it at all.

  Even if that’s what I’d wanted back when this all began.

  He nodded and stepped closer. I was shaking, but if it was from Fear or attraction or anger, I could never have said. “Yes,” he said quietly, lifting fingers to cup my cheek. “Of course.”

  “Fine,” I said turning away, denying the caress because couldn’t take any more. I was shaking uncontrollably and I could feel my eyes filling up with hot tears I refused to release. I couldn’t stand for him to see that just now. “Just let me know when and where. I’ll make an effort to show.”

  It was petty and foolish, but I was feeling petty and foolish. I had to go, I couldn’t hold back the emotions any longer.

  I ran from the room cursing myself for being so damn emotional for losing everything I had worked so hard to get for so long and now to run away crying because I was being married without my consent. Especially as I’d never ever wanted to feel like one of those weepy women in the bad movies who couldn’t get shit done because they were too busy with hormones. I hated women like that.

  And I’d become one anyway.

  I’d failed. I’d failed in my goal, my plans, in my relationships in every possible way, I’d failed.

  My punishment would be a lifetime of marriage to a man I… loved.

  There is no greater punishment than that.

  Chapter 18

  Michael

  I stood in the office of one of the most powerful people in North America, a room I was never allowed in as a child. Now I stood in it alone, staring at that massive desk, the seat of power. It was a strange lonely feeling, yet I knew that if I had the balls to carry it out, that someday this space would be mine. That desk.

  The Outfit.

  Did I want it?

  The odd thing was, the more I stood there and considered it, the more I thought about Deanna, at the way she’d looked at me right before she’d left. Her eyes had been sad, haunted with thoughts I couldn’t begin to imagine. But when had I ever truly understood Deanna? I thought I had once, but that had been eons before and a lot had changed since then.

  So her reaction, the way she’d flinched away from my touch, the way she’d fled the room, for surely her footsteps had been hurried as she’d bolted for the door though I hadn’t turned to watch her go, surely all of this was deeply significant. Yet for some reason, I couldn’t wrap my head around it because I’d gotten hung on up the fact that I could have sworn she was crying.

  Deanna never cried.

  Ever.

  Even when we were children, she would scrape her knee, bang her elbow, whatever, she never once shed a tear.

  So now, when I gave her the thing she had bee
n beating on me for, she was in tears. What the hell was that all about?

  OK, so maybe she doesn’t want me after all. Though she sure has some way of showing it. She certainly hadn’t been protesting being with me when she’d been stripped naked in my arms. If you asked me, she’d looked like she was having the time of her life.

  Which is exactly what I’d hated about women. Or at least Deanna in particular. She got weirdly emotional about things. One minute she would be playing the dominatrix, thinking she was going to be cracking the whip with me all ‘yes ma’am’ and next she was all princess needing to be rescued.

  The hell with that.

  The Outfit was about to blow up in everyone’s face and whether she saw it or not, she was going to be in danger until this whole thing was resolved one way or another. The only way I could keep her safe, keep any of us safe was to take control and take control now. And to do that, I would have to bring the whole damn thing down to the brink of total destruction.

  And the only way to do that was to get married. To her.

  I dropped to the couch, my hands clasped between my knees and considered the options. Could I pull this off if I didn’t drag her down the aisle? Could I fake that part? What if, maybe, could it work…